


We've Had so Little Time to Share

by i_am_made_of_memoriies



Series: Mechtober 2020 [6]
Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Heart-to-Heart, Hurt No Comfort, Ship of Theseus, Suicidal Thoughts, post-Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:14:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27186421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_am_made_of_memoriies/pseuds/i_am_made_of_memoriies
Summary: Written for Mechtober 2020 (immortality/clockwork)Brian and Nastya have a heart to heart about change and the void.
Relationships: The Aurora/Nastya Rasputina, but it's sad - Relationship
Series: Mechtober 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949050
Comments: 19
Kudos: 25





	We've Had so Little Time to Share

**Author's Note:**

> AHAHA IM BACK FOLKS AND IT'S SAD TIME

Immortality was a curse. It was a burden and it was torture. Nastya never hated it more than she did in this moment. After centuries of dying and reviving, her lungs spasming as they tried to take in oxygen that simply was not there, and her body freezing over, somehow colder than the mercury flowing through her veins, she wanted nothing more than death. Floating in the void was terrible and lonely–torturous and cold and terrifying. Yet it was better than this. She sat in her sleeping quarters, perched uncomfortably at the edge of her bed, her hands fiddling absentmindedly with two gears. She did not want to be back; it was not her choice. She did not ask for Brian to pull her back through the airlock and wrap her in a blanket, coaxing warm tea down her throat. She did not ask for pitying glances from her crewmates and muttered conversations behind her back. Leaving was her choice. She acted on her own free will. Who were her crewmates to deny her that? If she had just floated in the void for a little longer, maybe her end would have come, and she would finally face what was long, long overdue. 

The ship formerly known as Aurora tried to speak to Nastya, but Nastya did not try to understand. She let the ship’s words fade into background noise–nonsensical beeps and whirs. They may have meant something to Nastya once, but they did not anymore. Perhaps the ship was happy to see her back, or maybe it was angry at her; Nastya told herself that she did not care. Her Aurora was dead now–cast into a sun and finally put to rest. Nastya wanted the same for herself, but all she got was cold, slow blood and a body that simply would not die. Her love got to fade away and be at peace; why couldn’t she? It simply was not fair. 

The comm beside her bed beeped and vibrated on the table, startling Nastya from her thoughts. No one had tried to speak to her since she returned. Not even Jonny. Why bring her back if they were only going to avoid her? In a perfunctory motion, she reached for the comm, raising it just enough to view the message.

_ I need to perform some routine maintenance and since you’re back, I was hoping you’d assist. As usual. -Brian _

Nastya’s breath caught in her throat. She did not particularly want to see Brian–especially not after he dragged her in from the stars. But she was the engineer on the ship, and repairing all things mechanical–technically alive or not–was her job. If she were to be trapped on this ship, she may as well do her job. 

_ I will meet you on the bridge in 5 minutes. -NR _

Tucking her comm into a pocket, she pulled on her boots and made her way to the bridge. She did not trace the lines of the panelling as she walked or offer any smiles or kisses to the cameras. She merely listened to the thud of her boots against the clean metal floors. Someone had been cleaning the ship while she was gone. That was good. 

“Alright, let me do this quickly,” Nastya told Brian, settling down on the ground and unpacking her tools. “Can you open your chest for me?”

Brian obliged, revealing a human heart and a complex clockwork interior. He leaned back against the wall and let Nastya do her work, a worried grimace overtaking his metal features. 

“We’re all glad that you’re back, you know?” He said hesitantly.

“I’m glad you are.” Nastya’s tone was perfectly level. “I can not say the same.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Brian hesitated for a moment, searching for his words. “Why did you leave in the first place? Jonny never told us, you never said anything, and now you don’t even want to be back.”

“My reasons for leaving were entirely my own,” Nastya hissed. “And none of you had any right to undermine my choices.”

Brian grimaced again. “I did not get the privilege of immortality when I was thrown into space, you know?”

“The  _ privilege _ ?” Nastya all but slammed her screwdriver on the floor. “None of this is a privilege and it simply stuns me that you do not agree. Do you have any idea how long I have been alive, Brian? Do you have any idea how many times I have done the exact same jobs, had the exact same conversations, and seen the exact same arcs of history? Sometimes you truly have seen it all!”

“But we’re all here, changing with you,” Brian offered, futilely attempting to pacify Nastya.

“And that’s the worst of it! The only thing I wish would not change changes. Everything else is monotonous and the same, yet the one thing I wished was constant changes beyond recognition. It’s torture, don’t you understand that?” 

“You’re talking about Aurora, aren’t you.” Brian did not phrase it as a question. He knew he was right.

Nastya forced out a strangled breath, fixing some of Brian’s gears in order to avoid eye contact. 

“Of course I am,” she muttered. “There is not a single piece of original plating left, did you know that? This ship does not speak Cyberian anymore. It does not remember the name of the bunker in which it was born. It does not remember the name of my parents. This ship is not the ship I fell in love with. This ship is not my Aurora, so why should I stay on it?”

“Do you think there is a single original piece of me either?” Brian asked earnestly. “After all the repairs you’ve helped me do and after all of our battles–not to mention the time I was stuck in the sun–do you think I am physically the same Brian you met all those millenia ago?”

“That isn’t the same–”

“But would you ever doubt for a moment that I am Brian, your pilot, and erstwhile friend?”

The “erstwhile” made Nastya flinch, but she refused to answer. 

“And do you think you are the same Nastya Rasputina Aurora fell in love with? You know that she loved you from the moment you awoke after Carmilla’s experiments. Are you in any way the same woman now that you were then?”

“I still remember Cyberian!” she insisted, shaking her head. “I still remember my past and the Aurora that I fell in love with.”

“How do you know that? How do you know that the Aurora you claim to have fallen in love with is not actually the Aurora of a century ago? Or maybe the Aurora of mere months before you left. Everyone changes, Nastya.”

“She was not supposed to.”

Brian opened his mouth to respond, but found himself at a loss for words. 

“Love is not meant for immortality. Love is supposed to peter off eventually, and if the two lovers can not die, the love will end while they are still alive, no matter how strong the connection was at the beginning. My Aurora is gone, and there is nothing you can do about that. You may still be Brian, but my situation is completely different.”

Brian watched as Nastya carefully finished the repairs, her eyes fixed on the clockwork in his chest. After closing and sealing his chest panel, she packed up her tools and walked off. Brian did not know where she would go next, but he also knew that he could not stop her. And for a brief moment, he wondered if he was even Brian anymore. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> :3 blame Yale for the idea!


End file.
